


Be My Baby

by orphan_account



Category: DMMd, DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Club AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a dumb AU fic where Aoba is a cage dancer in a nightclub and Mink is a regular patron of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be My Baby

Grinding.

Sliding.

Shaking.

The speeding lights bounce off of me as I slide to my knees to the music that blasts and bumps in the background, drowning out my breathing as I make eye contact with the men around me, just outside my bars.

They watch, they stare, they hoot, they holler. I can't hear them, I can only hear the music as I roll my hips in their direction. I'm used to them anyway, I've had this job long enough to know they can't touch me, can't harm me, unless I want them too.

But tonight something feels off, the music is still as fast as ever, the lights as bright, the men as needy.

But he's missing.

It's getting late.

Why isn't he here yet?

I swallow hard as I look around, trying not to look too nervous to the regular patrons. I keep dancing, but in the back of my mind I keep hoping he'll show up soon.

Suddenly I stop for a second, lucky that the music changes pace as I do, so when I step back in pace nothing seems off. I feel like I'm sweating more tha usual.

When did I get so used to him being there?

When did he first show up?

Was it a month- no, longer than a month now. Always sitting in the same spot, on a leather couch in front of my cage.

At first he was just creepy, staring too long, not moving for hours. I didn't want to notice him, I tried not to notice him. He was just another patron, but when he watched me, somehow I felt more lewd than I ever had before. As if he was waiting and watching me to see how my body was reacting to every sound, every light, every person who cast me a glance. Soaking in every bit of me, taking in every bit of information just to use it against me if he ever got his hands on me.

He must have wanted me, he came only for me, sat only in front of me, and left without looking at anyone who wasn't me.

After a while, I wanted him too.

He never showed any emotion, only looked at me as if I was a thing, something to be bought.

I wanted to see so much more of him. I wanted him to reach out and touch me. I wanted to reach out and touch him as well, take him in. I wanted to know what he felt like, what he smelled like. I didn't even care to know his name. I just wanted to know his body, his person, his mind. I wanted to see more expressions on his face than the same, focused one he had on every night.

It wasn't long after he started coming that the men around me, watching me, slowly disappeared. Not because I became less popular, but because I barely noticed they were there.

If you would have asked me who was there that night, I would only recall his face. I would only think about his eyes watching me as I danced for him, only for him.

So we wrapped each other up in our own little worlds, our imaginations reaching where our bodies could not go.

I'm just a dancer, and he's just my patron.

So why does it hurt when he's missing?

When he's not there when my shift starts. When he's still not there when I've been there for hours. When I leave he still hasn't come in.

It scares me how much emotion I put into the presence of a man who had never even spoken to me. Who had never even shown me any sign of affection.

I swallow as I sit in the back room, pulling my pants back on. Stopping half-way through I can't help but double over, feeling so stupid for the sudden wave of depression that hits me.

Why wasn't he there tonight?

Did he get hurt?

He does look like a criminal, did someone-

No, I don't want to think about that. It would be better just to believe he didn't show up for a night because he was tired or something.

Or maybe he didn't want to see me.

No, I don't want to think about that one either.

Feeling like a stupid schoolkid with a crush I finish getting dressed. Unable to push down these feelings I end up searching the ground for answers as I leave the building.

What if he doesn't come back?

I feel like I wouldn't even want to dance then.

There wouldn't be a purpose, in the beginning I did it just to get paid, but then--it was to see him.

When did it even turn into that?

I frown and grumble as I keep walking, lost in my own thoughts. Then something makes me jump, a motor revving.

What?

I look up, and can almost feel my heart skip a beat.

There he is, amber eyes himself sitting curbside, smoking from a large pipe and staring into the distance.

After a moment, he looks at me and I can feel my heart stop.

There's no bars between us, nothing to stop him from coming to me, nothing to stop me from going to him. Only the cold night air.

He takes a moment to take me in, I getting a little embarrassed realizing this was probably the first time he's seeing me with all my clothes on.

"Ah-" I want to say something.

"Hop on."

But he cut me off.

"What-"

"I want to make you my baby."

He turns once again to look forward, and I can only stand there and feel stupid as that sentence takes a few seconds too long to process.

Before I can reason myself out of it, I take the chance and do just as he says. Wrapping my arms around him, I take in the scent of cinnamon and the warmth of his body as he takes off into the night.

And it all feels better than I had ever imagined.


End file.
